


hard times

by loveontherocks



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dick Pics, M/M, Non-Famous AU, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 20:09:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10726335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks
Summary: No problem. Would you enjoy seeing my cock?I would, and thank you for asking.You’re welcome. I wouldn’t send it all willy nilly.a short story of liam and harry sort of sexting based on a photo from the internet.





	hard times

**Author's Note:**

> hey friends. it's been ages since i've written something coherent and readable. i'm just sad it's 1.5k. anywho, please enjoy. all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> title is from paramore's song of the same name. 
> 
> this is for you, sunshine gc.

It was one of those happenstance kinds of things. The weather was shit, and the day was slow, but the fact that Harry kept him company all day sort of kept him running.

_Company_ is a little loose, considering, in reality, Harry had only been on the other side of Liam’s grumpy texts. It was a new thing. Brand new. So _new_ it almost scared Liam how not-new it felt. Still, it was something that made him happy between all of the customers with their incessant requests for those God-forsaken unicorn Frappuccinos, useless coworkers, and a stoic manager. There was always a text waiting for Liam when he had a moment to check his phone. Somehow, Liam found the time for a reply here and there between wiping down tables and mopping up pink and blue syrup from the floor.

Even then, by the end of the day, Liam was exhausted, tired, like his bones were worn into dust and the wind would carry him away. His apartment is empty, as usual, and the quiet feels like well-deserved peace. Normally, Liam didn’t complain because Starbucks is usually ridiculously chill. The calm atmosphere, coffee house playlist, and the constant clicking of keyboards is something Liam actually likes. The lines were too long today, and there were too many people and a lot of them were just _not_ nice today. Nothing that can’t be remedied with a quick shower and leftover lo Mein, though.

As Liam turns the shower on, he sees there’s a message waiting on his phone.

_-Home yet?_

Smiling, Liam taps out a quick response.

_-Yeah, finally. Thanks for today, I really needed it, haha_

A few seconds pass, and Liam takes the moment to undress before his phone chimes with a message.

_-I bet. I never knew fraps could cause so much stress._

_-You don’t even know. Are you doing anything tonight?_

_-Dinner with Mum and Gem in a couple hours. You?_

_-Probably calling it a night_ _I’ve been up since way too early._

_-What are you doing now?_  

_-Shower. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be stained pink and blue for the rest of my life._

There’s a pause, and Liam waits for just another second before getting into the shower. His phone chimes just as he pulls back the curtain. Even with the pull of the steaming shower, Liam checks his phone.

_-Hmm. Not a sight I would mind seeing._

Standing naked in his bathroom, there’s a thrill that shuffles through him. He’s exhausted, but there are parts of him that don’t really care about that. Liam leans against the counter, types out a message, and lets his thumb hover over the send button before pressing down.

_-I don’t think I would mind you seeing either._

Grinning to himself, Liam decides to shut the water off, because he’s obviously not quite ready to part with his phone.

_-Oh yeah?_

In his bedroom, he scours for a pair of joggers for now, and pulls them on. He doesn’t bother finding a shirt, but he heads towards the kitchen because he’s starving. Except the flipping of his stomach is something completely different than the want for last nights’ dinner. He opts for a beer and a place on the couch. He doesn’t turn the television on.

_-Yeah. I mean, I did ask if you were busy later._

It’s not even a second before a reply is ringing in his hand. Liam’s cheeks feel warm when he touches his palm against his face.

_-You did. I could stop by later tonight. If you’d like of course._

Sinking into the sofa, there’s a heavy breath that rushes from Liam’s lungs. He wants Harry to come over right now, a repeat of last weekend, except no one knocks on the door and Liam’s friends don’t make themselves comfortable even though he and Harry were clearly in the middle of _something._

_-I would like that a lot actually._

Liam sips from his beer and almost chokes as he swallows when he sees Harry’s message.

_-No problem. Would you enjoy seeing my cock?_

With absolute no hesitation in his fingers, Liam types out his response and sets his beer on the coffee table.

_-I would, and thank you for asking._

_-You’re welcome. I wouldn’t send it all willy nilly._

Despite the fact that Liam’s half hard from anticipation, he huffs a laugh. _Willy nilly_. Harry is--well. He’s exceptional at being Harry. At saying things like “willy nilly” and “in a jiffy” and Liam’s pretty sure Harry started saying _darn_ ironically, but it stuck, and instead of cursing like a normal twenty-three-year-old, he just says _darn_. Like he’s from the fifties with his charming smile and dimples and his curly hair and manners. He’s one part adorable, the kind of guy to introduce to his parents (if it goes that far), and two parts sexy, the type that will keep him dazed and daydreaming and wanting and waiting and--well, with those green eyes, and those hands, and the haphazard design of his tattoos and that crooked smile (that makes him look a bit like a smug asshole, but is all the more endearing when Liam realized he was anything but), keeps Liam hooked.

When a message comes in, Liam’s heart is racing. It’s not like he’s never sexted before. He’s terrible at it, that much is true, but he still does it, because Snapchat makes things a hell of a lot easier. Liam notices, though, that Harry had forgone using Snap, and sent the photo through imessage, so when Liam opens the message, he doesn’t have to take it all in too fast before it disappears forever.

It’s obvious that Harry’s hanging out in bed. There’s navy colored blankets just to the side of Harry’s hip. Harry’s left hand, adorned with a ring on his middle finger, is flat against his tummy. The inked laurels on the front of his hips are dark compared to the fair color of his skin since the cold weather hadn’t allowed for a tan. Harry’s hard in the photo, of course, and it’s--Liam wasn’t sure what he was expecting; he swallows hard, takes in a shuddery breath. Harry’s _thick_ , and the head is flushed a dark, rosy pink; the flash catches a shine at the very tip that makes Liam’s mouth go dry. Liam’s definitely hard now; he reaches down the front of his pants to relieve just a little bit of pressure, but he gets carried, away, noticing little details, like Harry’s chipped nail varnish (an electric, icy blue), the curly hair at the base of his cock, the outline of a tattoo on Harry’s thigh--

It’s all a little bit too much; with the power to lay back and stare at a photo, Liam’s already started, so he lifts his hips to push the waist band of his joggers to his thighs, and he licks the palm of his hand before reaching down to touch himself properly. He wants to close his eyes so he can think about Harry properly, think about Harry’s hands on his body, Harry’s mouth on his neck, Harry’s cock inside of him, but he can’t stop _staring_ \--

_-Alright?_

Harry’s message at the bottom of the screen moves the photo up a bit, but Liam’s vision is blurred out--he doesn’t want to stop because it feels good, stroking himself of in the middle of the afternoon while it’s raining and he’s sexting his kind of boyfriend. His strokes are shallow, his fist around the tip, but Liam enjoys teasing himself; he strokes down his shaft, cups his balls, even goes far enough to press the tip of his finger to his hole--

His body is so exhausted it doesn’t take much to get him off; Harry’s photo at the front of his mind, his imagination filling in the blanks, it’s just a minute before he comes, dripping over his fist, coming over his bare tummy with a soft whimper, fucking himself through the jolting, toe-curling aftershocks that makes his body shiver.

The first thing he thinks of is, _I should have called Harry._ Harry’s message is still sitting in the thread, grey and unanswered. Liam replies.

_-9.5_

It’s vague, and Liam isn’t even sure what he’s talking about, but while he waits for Harry’s reply, he takes a photo of himself, still hard, but messy, all finished and lax against the sofa.

_-On a scale of 1-10, I hope._

Laziness is settling in, like always, even though Liam really needs that shower now. Photography out of the way, he pushes his pants down the rest of the way and uses them to wipe up the cooled mess on his belly.

_-On a scale of 1-5, but you’ve always been an overachiever_

Picking himself up from the couch, Liam chugs the rest of his beer and maneuvers, naked, to the bathroom and gets the shower started up again.

_-Since it sounds like exceeded expectations, would it be rude to ask for something back?_

With the photo of himself from his camera roll, Liam crafts a message sends it off to Harry with a caption.

_-There’s a key under the mat, feel free to let yourself in._


End file.
